


Friday

by Sincestiel



Series: One Week [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Blow Jobs, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Object Insertion, Prostitute Dean, Prostitution, Whipping, side dean/crowley, that's vague though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have another date tonight.  This time they're going out.  Dean's going to pick him up all proper and everything.  Wine and dine him at an actual restaurant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the lack of Destiel smut in this one. The rating is really only for the Crowley scene. But don't be put off. It's kinda vague with little attention to detail.

Dean is on cloud nine all day on Friday, and even Crowley, fucked up sadistic bastard that he is, can't bring Dean down.

But he does try to tone it down while he's strapped to the table in the little kitchenette in the motel room Crowley rented for them – because apparently beds are too good for whores like him. Crowley might get off on weird things, and Dean might not really enjoy seeing him ( _at all_ ), but the man is still a paying client. And what he wants is Dean's supplication and contrition. For what, Dean isn't sure. But Crowley wants him to be sorry. Pitiful. Resigned.

So Dean plays the part and, since Crowley is at his back, he doesn't even bother to flinch until the whip is coming down steadily. It's not exactly painful. But neither is it pleasant and Dean knows he'll probably be marked for a few days. He'd have cancelled if Crowley didn't pay so well. He really doesn't want Castiel to see evidence of his other clients.

But it is what it is and Dean takes each lick just like Crowley wants. But inside he's focused on Cas. They have another date tonight. This time they're going out. Dean's going to pick him up all proper and everything. Wine and dine him at an actual restaurant.

And fuck if the thought doesn't make him want to legitimately jump for joy. But, seeing as he's currently strapped down and, at this point, having a rather large indecipherable object shoved up his ass, he can't really do that. So he gives the required grunts of disapproving acceptance and tries to loosen up enough that he can still sit properly later tonight.

He doesn't really know whether to be grateful Crowley doesn't fuck him or to wish he did. Because while he does not want that man panting and wheezing over him, it would have to be more comfortable than having his ass stretched like this.

But, luckily, Crowley knows and abides by the rules. No blood. So he's careful. Lots of lube and prep. So while it hurts, it's not actually damaging him and Dean can handle it. But still, he heaves a sigh of relief when the man finally finishes with him and then lets him down so he can give the mandatory blowjob.

Dean provides the service perfunctorily and he isn't surprised when his almost sub-par attention does the job rather quickly. Crowley always gets himself going good before he even pushes Dean to the floor.

The taste of latex is still heavy on his tongue as he pockets his cash and heads out, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he slides behind the wheel.

He grins at the text that came through while he was getting his ass worked over.

_Green or blue? Can't decide on which shirt to wear._

He can practically hear Castiel's nerves through the text. According to Cas, this will be his first date in ten years. First outside of his house date anyway.

Really, Dean doesn't care. But he knows Castiel. At least on a primal level. And the man likes getting orders. He likes knowing what to do and how to do it. Wants to please more than anything else.

_Blue. I'll be there at seven sharp. Chinese okay?_

He sends the text and pulls out of the parking lot, heading home. He still has several hours before he needs to be ready, but it probably wouldn't hurt for him to take a cool shower (to reduce any potential swelling) and then a warm bath (to soothe his achy muscles) before he picks Cas up.

 _Chinese is fine. I'll be ready. :)_

*

Dean's hands are shaking when he steps out of his car onto the sidewalk, but he hides that by shoving them in his pockets. He's sure Castiel will be nervous enough for both of them. Besides, it isn't like they're hitting a fancy place or anything. He can do this. He _can_.

He takes a deep breath and then makes himself walk calmly up to the door and knock. Castiel answers almost immediately, as if he was waiting on the other side. And Dean smiles when he realizes that he probably was.

And wow. He looks good. Fitted jeans – and Dean makes a mental note to walk behind him as much as possible, because he's seen Castiel's ass and he knows it has to look amazing in those jeans – and a light blue button down that makes his slightly darker blue eyes pop. His hair is in that perpetually artfully messy state, and his smile is genuine, if a little hesitant. Well, that needs to be fixed right away.

Dean doesn't say anything, rather, he leans in and presses his lips to Cas', lifts his hand to brush over his cheek, and then smiles into the man's mouth.

"You look amazing."

Castiel's smile grows, but he rolls his eyes and replies, "I thought the kiss on the doorstep came at the end of the date."

Dean pulls back and snorts, "That's only true for people who haven't seen each other naked countless times."

Castiel blushes so pretty for him and Dean makes a vow to himself to say as many almost dirty things as he can tonight, if only to see Cas turn that shade of pink over and over again.

"You look…" Castiel's eyes rake over him and it shouldn't make Dean's spine tingle like it does, because hell, people look at him all the time. But there's nothing lascivious about it and just the fact that Castiel is appreciating him in such an innocent manner turns Dean on more than anything else. "Gorgeous."

He almost sounds a little breathless and Dean goes even harder in his jeans. And fuck. He really needs to get that under control because it's not really kosher to be sporting wood all the way through a date. But Castiel just does things to him. Makes him feel protective and possessive and like a horny teenager all over again.

"Come on," Dean says, reaching out to grasp Cas at the wrist, "Lets get the show on the road because I wanna get back and blow you as soon as possible."

Castiel goes red all over at that, but he doesn't shy away and he doesn't reprimand Dean. So Dean thinks he has a shot at making that a reality later. And despite his typical aversion to having a dick in his mouth – honestly it happens sometimes upwards of three times a day and the shiny has long since worn off, if it was ever there to begin with – he really does want to get his lips around Cas.

He turns, still holding Cas' wrist, and starts walking them to the car. But he almost stumbles when he hears Castiel's almost whispered, "Only if I can return the favor."

Dean doesn't respond. Can't because his mouth is suddenly desert dry and his vocal chords won't work. How many times has he imagined just that? Castiel's plump lips sealed around the head of his cock. Castiel on his knees, hands gripping Dean's thighs. Oh yeah. He can return the favor. Absolutely.

When they reach the passenger side door, Dean finally gets his body to cooperate enough to reply, "I think that can be arranged."

He doesn't miss the way Castiel's eyes slide over his crotch before he lowers himself into the car and lets Dean shut the door for him.

*

Dinner is going so much better than it did the night before. They're more at ease with each other now. And Dean is able to get Castiel talking about his job. He works from home doing some sort of programming for Microsoft. Which explains why he doesn't seem to have many friends or even acquaintances. But Dean can tell, even though it sounds like a boring job to him, that Cas really loves it. His eyes light up when he starts talking about the projects he's worked on recently and Dean finds himself avidly interested, if only because Castiel is.

Everything is great, spectacular even, until a hand lands on the middle of Dean's back, right where a rather hard blow of the whip hit him earlier, and that husky voice drawls close to his ear, "Well, love, how about this? I didn't know you offered dinner as well. I've been missing out."

Crowley's too close, crowding into his personal space like he doesn't even when Dean's naked and at his mercy. And his breath is warm on Dean's neck, but not at all arousing or pleasing. Dean shivers and colors, possibly more mortified than he's ever been in his life. 

And he snaps, "This is not business, Crowley. I do have a life outside of providing tiny dicked, Viagra popping old men like yourself someone to whip and abuse."

He has the presence of mind to say it low enough that his voice doesn't carry, but when he chances a glance at Cas, he can tell Cas heard. But Castiel isn't looking at him. Cas is staring at Crowley in a way that Dean can't quite figure out.

"Oh, you'll pay for that one, pet," is all Crowley says before he walks away. And Dean doesn't even have it in him to be concerned. Not when he's just been accosted by a client in front of his date. And not just any date. But Castiel.

"I think," Castiel starts, before Dean can even apologize, "I'm finished. Are you?"

But Cas doesn't wait for confirmation before tossing some money on the table and standing. Dean feels like utter shit when he stands to follow. And then even worse when he sees Castiel watching Crowley's table as they leave.

Well that was ten kids of fucked up. And now Cas will probably never want to go out with Dean again. He might not even want Dean's services again – and he cringes just thinking about that, because a small part of him had started to hope they were past that anyway.

When they make it to the car, Castiel is so calm it's almost frightening. Dean wants to start spouting apologies left and right. And he almost does. But he was never dishonest with Cas. Cas has always known what and who Dean is. And he has to know Dean has other clients. And even though his professional relationship with Castiel and Crowley are as different as night and day, Castiel has paid him too. So it's not like he has a leg to stand on here.

Still, he does offer an apology. Though not for his life choices, which are his own to make, damn it. "Sorry we were interrupted like that. I'll uh… I'll have a talk with him about boundaries and try to make sure that doesn't happen again."

Dean steps around Castiel's eerily still form and grabs the door handle, intending to open it for Cas. But Cas' hand closes over his arm before he can.

"Does he really… does he _whip_ you, Dean?" There's nothing judgmental in the way he says it, but something about it raises Dean's hackles. Maybe it's because the answer is yes and that is not something he wants to expose sweet Castiel to.

But he can't lie. So he grits out, "Yeah, okay?" before he pulls his arm out of Cas' grasp and wrenches the door open. But Castiel doesn't get in, instead, he turns to face Dean. And Dean can't stand the pity he sees on Cas' face. But the soft kiss Cas presses to his lips soothes the sting a little.

"I'm sorry. I… I know it doesn't help. But I'm sorry you have to deal with people like him."

And then Castiel slides into the car. He doesn't offer Dean a 'place to stay until he can sort things out' like misguided clients have before. He doesn't try to save him. He doesn't demand Dean stop this very instant. He doesn't do anything but offer that little bit of sympathy. And while Dean doesn't like to be treated like he's to be pitied, even worse he hates the thought of someone trying to ride in and save the day. Like he doesn't _choose_ to do this. Like he's helpless or something. Because Dean is most certainly _not_ helpless.

And when Dean gets into the driver's seat, Cas doesn't say anything at all. He just slips his hand into Dean's when they pull out on the road, a gentle but steady reassurance.

The ride back is tense, Dean remaining coiled tight and ready for a fight even with Castiel's thumb running soothingly back and forth over his hand. And when he stops the car, he just sits there, staring out the windshield. Castiel doesn't move except for that constant pressure on Dean's hand. He just waits. And that is what keeps Dean's voice low and calm when he says, "So let's have it."

Castiel sounds honestly confused when he answers, "Have what?"

Dean's laugh is a little cold as he almost spits, "What? No demands? You don't want me to quit? Don't want to rescue me from big, bad men like Crowley? You don't think I've been abused or that I have low self-esteem? Not gonna give me the white knight act?"

When Dean looks over at Cas, Cas is just watching him calmly, thumb still making slow circles on Dean's hand.

"Is your profession your choice, Dean? Are being coerced in anyway?"

Dean's mouth draws into a tight line and he shakes his head. Castiel shrugs and offers a small smile.

"Then I don't feel the need to do any of that. I would like you to come inside though. I'll make us some coffee. Or we can have a glass of wine because you are incredibly tense."

And just like that, all the fight drains out of Dean and he's left staring at this man in amazed wonder.

"Really? That's it?"

"That's it," Cas confirms, "Consider it forgotten."

Castiel reaches to open his own door, but Dean stops him. "Wait, let me." And then he's out of the car in a rush, trying to make his way around before Castiel can let himself out. He needn't have been worried; Cas remains obediently in the seat until Dean lets him out.

There aren't any blowjobs that night, but there is both coffee and wine. And there's snuggling on the couch (and Dean's fairly positive he's never spent quite so much time just holding someone, but he's not even tempted to complain). And there's a bit of laughter and a lot of kissing. And when Castiel walks him to the door, Dean kisses him on his doorstep and Castiel grins.

Dean whistles all the way to his car, the debacle with Crowley a distant memory already with his lips still sparking from Castiel's kisses. He's not surprised at all when his phone beeps before he even gets the car started.

_Are you free tomorrow? I was thinking we might follow through on our original plans for tonight._

It should probably be scary, Dean thinks, the way he doesn't even pause before replying.

_I'm always free for you. What time?_

But, for some reason, it's not.


End file.
